


The Weight of the Unborn

by CrackingLamb



Series: Bits and Pieces From the Soldier, Spectre, Savior Universe [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Conversations, F/M, Forced Sterilization, Human History of Racism, if you're reading this anywhere other than ao3 it's been stolen, please report it thanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22375714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackingLamb/pseuds/CrackingLamb
Summary: Wrex and Jayne discover they have more in common than they thought.  And an unlikely friendship will change the face of the galaxy, as well as its fate.
Relationships: Female Shepard & Urdnot Wrex, mentions of Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Series: Bits and Pieces From the Soldier, Spectre, Savior Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610674
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	The Weight of the Unborn

**Author's Note:**

> I have Thoughts(tm) about the genophage. Mostly boiling down to it was the most evil thing to ever happen to a sapient species. A paragon Shepard will cure it, but *why*? What motivates them? Why do they feel strongly about it, aside from a healthy sense of compassion?
> 
> This led me to a startling headcannon for my Jayne. A descendant of a native tribe would feel the affects of forced sterilization for generations. It influences her thought process on how and why the genophage is so horrible. And makes her decision to help one of her best friends end it a no brainer. And in turn, it became this fic. Enjoy.

_2183 – Normandy SR-1_

The cargo bay seemed like a strange place for three of the squad members to hang out, especially since all three of them treated each other with varying levels of mistrust. _Maybe that's why they stay here_ , Jayne thought. _So they can keep their respective eyes on each other_.

Garrus gave her a nod from the Mako, grabbing a new set of wrenches to slide underneath it with. She didn't know exactly what he was doing, but she knew that every time she took the six wheeled vehicle groundside, it ran better and better for all his tinkering. Ashley Williams, granddaughter of the infamous General Williams, watched him with the wary curiosity of someone raised on too many horror stories of the First Contact war. The Gunnery Chief had some unflattering notions about the galactic races in general that Jayne hoped wouldn't interfere with her job. Humans had a reputation for arrogance because of attitudes like hers.

Neither of them were why she'd come down here, however. Standing on his own, carving something that looked like a rune into the stock of his assault rifle, Wrex was her target. She walked over to him, keeping herself in his line of sight. His huge head turned to her with mild interest in his ruby eyes.

“Shepard,” he said by way of greeting, barely dipping his head in a nod. She watched him etch the curving shape into the metal stock, his blunt fingers precise and delicate despite their size. “Nice ship you got here.”

“What's your story, Wrex? Tell me how a krogan ends up a mercenary on an Alliance vessel.”

“There's no story, not really.” The krogan went back to his work, ignoring the hard stare that Ashley sent his way. She didn't like either of their alien companions, Jayne noted, but her guarded fear of Garrus was nothing compared to her active terror of Wrex. In a way, Jayne couldn't blame her. The krogan were known far and wide as violent, unpredictable and brash. _Rather like humans_ , Jayne thought privately. No wonder the turians had reacted with enmity upon meeting them. “Go ask that little bitty thing Tali if you want stories. Her people have quite the tradition for them.”

“C'mon,” she cajoled the hulking red krogan, “you guys live for centuries. You must have had some interesting adventures over the years.”

“Well, there was this one time the turians tried to wipe out my entire race. That was fun.”

“Yeah, they tried that with us too.”

Wrex laid down his tools, turning to face her squarely. He quirked a small smile at her for standing her ground next to 7 feet of unknown alien. A spark of admiration lit his eyes even as his words were condemning. “It's not the same.”

“It certainly feels like it.”

“So your people were infected with a genetic mutation too? One that makes only one child in a thousand survive birth?”

She felt more than heard Garrus come to sudden attention on the other side of the cargo bay, and watched Wrex's eyes settle on him across the distance. She hoped Garrus wouldn't intervene. This wasn't the Citadel. C-Sec had no authority here, and Wrex knew it. Just as the sniff and chuckle he'd given them both when he arrived on board told her that he knew far more about them than anyone else on the ship. Jayne decided a little trust might go a long way to relieving the abrupt tension.

“Okay, that's fair. It's not the same. But we didn't need the turians for that. Humans have practiced reproductive strictures on other humans for centuries.”

The krogan turned back to her, the look in his eye calculating. “Didn't stop you from spreading out into the galaxy like weeds.”

She smiled, wondering if it was a translation thing, or if he really did know human idioms. From what she knew of his homeworld, _nothing_ grew but resentment. “No, it didn't,” she agreed, staying on track with the conversation. “Mostly because it was targeted at a very specific...ethnicity, I guess you'd call it.”

“Tell me, Shepard.”

She moved to his side, hopping up onto a convenient crate to serve as a seat, settling herself so that she could see both Wrex and Garrus simultaneously. Her turian lover gave her a look that said he was worried about her safety, and she flicked her fingers in his direction to tell him he could get back to his tinkering. The krogan watched the interplay, a knowing smile appearing on his broad face.

“For many years, indigenous peoples were persecuted for existing. How dare they still survive after colonial efforts took their land and buried their traditions.” The words came out bitter and sarcastic, and she was aware of acidic burning in her gut. It was old and fairly impotent, but still present. This wasn't something she talked about often, although if one knew what they were looking for, they could find it in her public records. She had no doubt Garrus knew, even if he had no context for the information. She turned back to Wrex, seeing his warrior gaze on her.

“What makes some humans indigenous? Thought you all were from the same planet.”

“During several points of Earth's history, people from one location migrated to another, and usually treated the people they found in those new places as inferior to them.” She cast a single quick view over Ashley, who was pretending not to eavesdrop on their conversation and failing. The cargo bay echoed too easily to hold anything like a private conversation. “Racism has long been a human trait, especially against anyone different from the alleged elite. Genocide, conquest, slavery...in one way or another, humans have always tried to control other humans.”

“I see.”

“When straight up murder didn't work to 'quell the savages' of the North American continent, those in power forced tribal nations into poverty to strip them of any agency. Made them live on small patches of useless land no one else wanted, made their languages illegal to speak and teach to their children, turned their cultures into parodies, disbanded whole nations when they wouldn't leave. And when all else failed, they forcibly sterilized women if they went to public hospitals to have their babies.”

“I get the feeling this is a subject close to your heart, Shepard,” Wrex said wryly.

“Yeah.” She blew out a breath, struggling past the feeling that she shouldn't say anything. Years of deliberately keeping this part of her secret made it difficult to let out. “My great-grandmother was one of them.”

“Yet you are here.”

“I am. A bit lucky to be. My great-grandmother had already had my grandmother when she had a second child. That one they cut out of her, leaving behind a copper coil implanted into her very flesh so that she'd never conceive again.” She shook her head sadly. “It didn't work. At least, it didn't work the way it was supposed to. She had four miscarriages before she knew what had been done to her. She sued the hospital, and when that was settled, she sued the government.”

A sense of triumph came over her, as far removed as it was. “She won that too. Her and about a thousand other women from various tribes. It took her the rest of her life, but it was the beginning of the process that ended forced sterilization of indigenous folk all over the world, made it be ruled as a human rights violation, punishable like a war crime. Reparations were paid in the billions of dollars. Of course, it was too late for many, but they had the relief of knowing it wouldn't happen to future generations.”

“I thought you were a colonist yourself.”

“A different kind. My mother and father went to Mindoir to start fresh, where no intelligent life already existed. Dad was an heirloom horticulturist and Mom was a chemical engineer. They combined their knowledge to discover how to grow Earth crops on an alien world without disrupting the local ecosystem. Very successfully too, until the batarians came.”

Wrex had been leaning on the workbench where his tools and weapons were laid out as he listened. He reached around and grabbed the stock he'd been working on, showing it to her. “You asked me for a story, then told one yourself. Now it's my turn. This mark is for my clan.” It was a whorled spiral, punctuated with carefully placed dots. “Once I led a clan of my own, and I thought perhaps someday I would unite others under this sigil. It didn't work out, of course. I ended up leaving Tuchanka, and everything I believed in.”

“Do you have children, Wrex?”

“No,” he replied heavily, tracing the mark with a blunt forefinger. “Almost, but they never survived hatching. At least, not for very long. I have a nephew, though. He'll never be much of a krogan, but he lived.”

“That means you have at least one sibling, right?”

Wrex nodded. “A half-brother. He's an idiot, just like our father. He doesn't want things to change for our race, thinks we should just keep killing each other and anything else we want without thought to the future.”

He put the etched stock back down and gave a rough grunt. “Eh, that's a story for another day. Shepard, there are a lot of people ignorant of what it means to live like the krogan do, with no hope, no promise of continuation. You aren't one of them. I'll have to keep that in mind.”

She smiled at him, a little crooked. “Thanks, Wrex, for whatever that's worth.”

He smiled back at her, and it was predatory although not aimed at her. “I think it's going to be worth a lot.”

_2186 – Tuchanka_

The cure sifted down through the air like snow, landing on all of them standing outside the Shroud. Jayne lifted a hand and watched it settle on her glove before dissipating. She wondered idly if there was anything in it that would affect her, as a human. She doubted it. Mordin was very good at what he did, tailoring the genophage cure just to the krogan.

Wrex and Eve jumped down from their truck, coming to stand next to her. Wrex bumped her shoulder, an understated gesture of his jubilance. She smiled up at him, lifting her head with a feeling of accomplishment more visceral than anything she'd ever felt before.

“You did it, Shepard.”

“ _We_ did it.”

Eve approached and took Jayne's hand in hers, squeezing it in silence before letting go and tilting her veiled face to the 'snow'. Wrex laughed out loud, the sound rumbling across the space, filling it. Jayne felt a wash of affection flow over her for her krogan friend. Their future may not be assured, not by any means, but in this moment...this made all the effort and struggle to get here worth it.

“I always knew, Shepard. I always knew you were one to watch.” He stumped over to her, leaning his massive, scarred forehead down to hers. “Thank you.”

“It was a long road, Wrex. For both of us.”

“I know. I meant what I said. You are as a sister to me, to clan Urdnot. You are not alone anymore.”

She smirked at him before reaching up to grab his head and kiss it. “You just want a sister to brag about.”

“And a damned fine one she is,” he rejoined with a grin. “You saved us, Shepard. Tell the turians I'll begin sending troops out immediately. And when you're ready to kick the Reapers off Earth, you let me know. The krogan are back in business and I intend to be there with you personally.”

“I will.”

“You gave us a future, Commander,” Eve said. “I will make sure your gift to us is not squandered. Your name and that of Mordin will be remembered by our future generations.”

“He'd have liked that,” Jayne said. “He wouldn't have had this any other way, I think. He told me it had to be him, that someone else would have gotten it wrong. Wherever he is, I hope he's putting in a good word for the rest of us.”

“We'll name one of the kids after him,” Wrex said, a thread of happiness in his tone that she'd never heard before. “Maybe a girl.”

She snorted, but she knew what that meant to a krogan. Males were warriors, it was true, but it was the females that held their society together. It was the women who were essential and controlled the political and cultural sway. Honoring Mordin's memory by passing on his name to a daughter was the highest compliment Wrex could give the old salarian, no matter how at odds they'd once been.

“We can thank _you_ in person, Commander,” Eve broke in, laying a hand on Wrex to keep him in line before he burst out into more ecstatic booming. Jayne shook her head at the pair of them, well matched and feisty together. “Thank you, for all that you've done. And know that Urdnot _Bakara_ calls you a friend.”

The krogan woman bowed to her as Wrex looked on, joy and pride on his face. Jayne smiled at them each in turn. “I'll see you soon, Wrex.”

“Yes, you will.”

“Goodbye, Commander.”

“Goodbye...Bakara. Keep this one tamed, all right? There's only so much manliness the universe can take.”

Wrex sputtered, but Bakara laughed. Her eyes twinkled, and Jayne had no doubt that soon enough she'd be hearing about their brood. _A daughter named Mordin_ , she thought wistfully. She hoped she would live to see it.

It was hard to walk away from them, to leave this place where once horrors existed and hope had been born. But she had work to do, if Wrex was going to get his chance. She let the determination fill her, wondering if this was how her great-grandmother had felt after years of fighting against her own government to make things right. It was a good feeling, she decided.

Now...now it was time to end this.

**Author's Note:**

> PS - This conversation will give some context to chapter 21 of Racing Down the Barrel, too.


End file.
